


Arthur's Roman Holiday

by LonerRavenclaw



Category: Merlin (TV), Roman Holiday (1953)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, And I didn't want to bum myself out, Arthur's a prince, Because... creative liberties, But minus the homophobia, Gwaine's a photographer, M/M, Merlin's a journalist, Movie AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-09 16:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13485171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LonerRavenclaw/pseuds/LonerRavenclaw
Summary: The Roman Holiday AU I'm frankly shocked no one has written yet. Arthur's on a tour of a cities across Europe, and he decides to get away from his busy schedule for a day. Merlin's a journalist who runs into him by chance and Gwaine convinces Merlin to use the opportunity to their advantage.





	1. Chapter One

A seemingly interminable line stretched before Arthur, filling the length of the hall. He’d been standing, greeting guests at the reception for what felt like hours, despite what the ornate clock on wall said. He forced his lips into a strained smile as Leon announced the next couple, a baron and baroness from somewhere or other. It had been like this the entire tour, endless hours of speeches and formal parties with unending lines of important people Arthur had no interest in. At least it would be over soon. Only two more stops before he and his retinue finally returned home.

Arthur stifled a yawn as he bowed to the final man in line and sat down in relief. However, the relief didn't last long. He'd scarcely had a chance to adjust the high collar of his formal suit when Leon gave a fleeting whisper to Morgana, and he was swept away to dance with his sister.

 

* * *

 

Back in the embassy’s estate room for the evening, Arthur collapsed back onto his bed in exhaustion, rubbing his temples to try and get rid of a pounding headache. “Good lord I hate these things. It’s nothing but hours and hours surrounded by people who only like me because they think I make a dashing figurehead.”

“Yes, well, that’s your job on this tour, isn’t it?” Morgana asked archly, sorting though papers for the next day’s events.

“Easy enough for you to say, as far as the public is concerned you’re just just father’s ward. That’s nothing like the same responsibility.”

“Oh yes.” Morgana scoffed. “Managing your speeches for you and making sure you don’t make a fool of yourself is _so_ little responsibility. Practically a vacation.”

Arthur sat up, sighing heavily. “Sorry… sorry, Morgana. I know you do a lot, it’s just…” I’m supposed to be… building relations, getting to know the cities we visit, but how am I supposed to _do_ that when I’m constantly ushered about by you and Leon?”

“Please. You just want an excuse to go to parties.”

Arthur opened his mouth to answer when they were interrupted by Leon entering with a tray. “Your milk and crackers, your highness.”

“Oh yes, how appetizing,” Arthur said under his breath.

“Sir?”

“Nothing, Leon. Thank you, bring it here.”

Leon set the tray on Arthur’s lap and stood back, hands clasped behind his back. Morgana glanced up from the papers in front of her. “If you don’t mind, we’ve got to go over the schedule for tomorrow.”

“Yes, of course.”

“There’s an eight thirty breakfast here at the embassy, then at nine, a trip to an automotive factory… From what I understand they’ll be giving you a car, so be gracious about it.”

“I already have three!”

“Yes, well, you’ll be turning it down. Graciously. Make sure to accept the olive tree, though.”

“Olive tree?”

“Ten thirty-five, we’re visiting an orchard outside of town. Next, at ten fifty-five there’s a speech for a new orphanage.”

“The trade relations one?”

“God no, Arthur, they’re children. Youth and progress.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Arthur rolled his eyes.

Morgana ignored his sarcasm and continued on. “You’ve got a press conference back here at eleven forty five… then at one you’ve got lunch. Leon, make sure he wears the suit with the white jacket.” Leon gave a small nod and Morgana returned to the schedule. “At five past three you’ll present a plaque; four ten, review a special guard…”

Arthur set the tray aside and rested his head against the wall. His headache had gotten worse now, and he shut his eyes in a vain attempt to shut out Morgana’s voice. The schedule went on, every minute of his day planned out in excruciating detail, complete with notes on what to say, wear, and do for each one. He squeezed his eyes tighter as the throbbing pain in his head intensified.

“Morgana! Cann you stop for one moment!” He burst out, cutting thought her comments about an international commitee. Both Leon and Morgan looked at him in alarm. “I don’t care! I don’t care about _any_ of this, about the— the speeches, the committees, the plaques. It’s all so—” he stopped abruptly, drawing in a sharp breath as his pain swept over his head again.

“I’ll fetch Dr. Muirden.” Leon said, hurrying to the door.

“I don’t need a doctor,” Arthur surged forward out of the bed, “I just can’t stand—“

“Hush, Arthur.” Morgana stopped him, pressing him back into his pillows with a firm hand. “It’s just nerves, you need sleep for tomorrow.”

Before Arthur could protest any further, Leon was back with Dr. Miurden. The doctor fussed about Arthur’s bedside, silencing him by placing a thermometer in his mouth.

“I’ll only disturb your royal highness for a moment, I assure you,” he said a moment later. “There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong aside from fatigue.”

“You can make sure he’s calm for tomorrow, can’t you?” Morgana asked. “Give him something to sleep? We can’t have him breaking down again at the press conference.”

“Yes, of course, it’s just a matter of a simple shot.”

“Look, I just have a headache, I really don’t need any shot.”

“Nonsense.” Dr. Muidren already had the syringe out and was rolling up Arthur’s sleeve. “There’s nothing better for the mind than sleep. Just try to relax, spend the evening in your room doing whatever you’d like. In about an hour you’ll have drifted off.”

Arthur sighed, but held his arm still for the shot. Once it was done, Leon left with he doctor and Morgana followed them, lingering for a moment at the door.

“Well… I suppose I’ll brief you on the rest of the schedule at breakfast.”

“Alright.”

“Goodnight, Arthur.”

“Night, Morgana.”

Once she’d left, Arthur lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting. After a few minutes, he silently got out of bed and turned on the light, and got dressed in one of the few comfortable outfits he had, though it was still far from casual. There would be a guard across the hall, and a few at the embassy gate, but he’d ways around them. For a moment Arthur paused to glance out his window, where he could just  see the lights of a party below. He’d be doing whatever he liked alright, but it wouldn’t be in this room.

 

* * *

 

Lance mused over his cards, considering. After a minute he tossed a few chips to the centre of the table and said, “Bet five hundred.”

“Oooh, DuLac’s finally doing something interesting,” Will beamed, “It’s about time.”

“Five hundred,” Merlin repeated, ignoring Will. He glance around the table in Lance’s small, poorly lit dining room. “How many cards?”

Gwaine grinned at Lance, “Don’t think you’re tricking me. One,” he told Merlin.

“One,” said Will.

“Oh… I’ll take three,” Lance said.

Merlin glanced at his own hand. “Aaand two for me. Bets?”

“Five hundred.” Will tossed in a few chips.

“Five hundred,” Gwaine grinned. “And just to make things interesting, raise you a thousand.”

Will whistled. “Well, look at the stones on Orkney. You think you’re that lucky?”

“Well I don’t see you doing much, mate, so yeah. I’m feeling pretty lucky.”

Merlin looked at Gwaine appraisingly. “Call.”

They showed their hands and Gwaine let out a barking laugh, pulling the pile of chips toward him. “You need to get better at reading people, Merlin. Isn’t that part of working with the press?”

“Hey! I beat you the past two poker nights.”

“Well, sorry mate, but you’re luck has ended.” Gwen took a second to add up his winnings. “Huh, not bad tonight. 6000 lira, what’s that… five, six pounds?”

“Closer to four.” Lance grinned, stretching. “One more game?”

“What! It’s not that late yet,” Will protested.

“Yeah, but Gwaine and I have got to get up early, remember, a date with his royal highness.”

“Ah, yes, the fairest figure to grace my camera in… Well, I was going to say months, but I had that shoot last week that I’m not sure he can compete with.”

“Alright, alright,” Will grumbled, “one more game. But we’re having another this weekend to make up for it.”

“I think I might cut out early, actually,” Merlin said. “Gaius’ll kill me if I come in late again.”

“Come on, Emrys! What— Are you scared of losing?”

Merlin smiled, “To you Will? No chance. Really though, I’ve got to turn in. See you tomorrow, yeah Gwaine?"

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

 

* * *

 

Merlin almost didn’t see the man asleep on the edge of the fountain. If he hadn’t mumbled something and rolled over just as Merlin passed, he would have missed him entirely. He was blond, well dressed, and so precariously near the edge of the fountain wall that Merlin was worried he might fall off. Just as he thought this, the man started to roll over again and Merlin rushed forward, grabbing his arm and pushing him into a sitting position. The man mumbled something again and flopped forward onto Merlin’s stomach.

Merlin eased him back onto the ledge and shook his shoulder “Hey, c’mon, wake up. Rise and shine.”

“Mmmm… Pleasure to meet you…”

“Er, right, look, you’ve got to get up.”

The man blinked groggily and squinted up at Merlin. “You may sit down.”

“Alright, yeah, but then you’ve got to get going. We don’t want the police to pick you up, now do we?” Merlin sat next to him and looked him over. “How much have you had to drink tonight, anyway?”

“‘Mighty the Wizard/ Who found me at sunrise/ Sleeping, and woke me’… Do you know that poem?”

“No I can’t say that I have, look…” At that moment Merlin saw a taxi approaching and hailed it. “Er, I’ve got to get home. You… you have some coffee, you'll be fine.” He got up and walked to to the cab, but as soon as he was gone the man lay back down on the edge of the fountain. Merlin glanced back at him and sighed. “Why don’t you take the taxi.”

“Mmmmph.”

“Come on.” Merlin grabbed the man’s arm and hauled him to his feet. “You’ve got money, right?”

“Of course not, Leon carries it for me.”

“Alright, well Leon’s not here.” The man was starting to slump against him again and Merlin sighed in exasperation. Resigned, he led him to the cab and got in after him.

“Oooh, a taxi.”

“That’s right. Where do you live?”

“Colosseum.”

Merlin sighed again, “I refuse to believe you’re that drunk, where to?”

“I'm not drunk at all. I want to see the gladiators.”

“Well you’re several centuries too late.” Merlin turned to the driver, “Er, just take us to via  margutta, number fifty one.”

The driver nodded and started off. Merlin turned back to the man, no drifting off again against the car door. When they arrived at his address, Merlin managed to drag him out of the taxi and with great difficulty lead him inside and up the stairs to his apartment.

Once he got inside the man looked around bemused. “Is this the elevator?”

“No, it’s my room.”

“Oh. You should get a bigger one.”

“Yeah, well tell that to Gaius, maybe he’ll give me a raise.” Merlin busied himself looking for spare sheets and when he turned around the man still hadn’t moved from eh doorway.

“You didn’t take me to the Colosseum.”

“No, I didn’t. You’ve got to get some sleep, and last I checked it was generally frowned upon to doze off there.”

“Right. Sleep.” The man studied Merlin’s bed as though he’d never seen one before. “Can I have a silk nightshirt?”

“I’m fresh out of silk, I’m afraid, you’ll have to make do with cotton pyjamas.” Merlin pressed a pair into the man's hands and started making up the sofa.

“Undress me.”

Merlin glanced over his shoulder, shocked. The man was holding his arms out from his sides expectantly. Merlin looked him up and down and swallowed. “Uh, I don’t think I’ll be doing that, thanks.”

“I’ve got to get ready for bed.”

“Well, why don’t you take care of it yourself, just this once. I’ve… uh, I’ve got to get something from the other room.”

“Hmm… You have my permission to withdraw.”

“Yes, well, thank you very much.”

Merlin ducked through the door to his combined dining room and kitchen and poured himself a drink, sighing. He took off his tie and jacket then leaned against the wall, counting to ten slowly. When he peered back into his bedroom he was relieved to see that the man had managed to figure out the pyjamas and was sound asleep, though disappointingly not on the sofa. Sighing heavily for what felt like the millionth time that night, Merlin reentered the room, lay down on the sofa, and resigned himself to his fate.

 

* * *

 

Morgana was about to got bed when there was a rap on her door and Leon slipped in. “Lady Morgana?”

“Yes, what is it?”

“Arthur. He’s gone missing.”

“What! That’s impossible. Search the grounds.”

“My men have already looked over the whole embassy twice, my lady.”

Morgana rubbed her eyes and collapsed into a chair. “Good lord. Well, don’t tell anyone— except the police of course. If this gets out…” She sighed. “Have the embassy staff release a bulletin saying he’s fallen ill, nothing serious, but enough that he won’t make it to any of tomorrows engagements.”

“Of course, Lady Morgana.”

“Start investigating as covertly as you can, and notify me the minute you have any news. And wake the ambassador, I’ll need to speak with him now.”

“Right away. Anything else?”

“No… Yes. If it turns out he hasn’t been kidnapped, give him a good hard slap when you find him.”

Leon’s mouth twitched nearly imperceptibly. “I see. I’ll go fetch the ambassador now.”

“Yes, thank you Leon.” Morgana turned other desk with grim resignation. “Now I just have to notify Uther.”

 

* * *

 

When Merlin woke up the next morning, it took him a minute to remember why he wasn’t on his bed, and as soon as he did he bolted up to check the time. It was noon. The press conference with the prince had started fifteen minutes ago. He’d overslept and missed yet another appointment. Gauls would be furious. Letting out a string of swear words, Merlin tripped over himself hurrying to get dressed, glaring at the bed when the blond man let out a vague noise of protest.

“Oh, shut up you, this is all your fault.” Merlin grabbed his jacket from last night, hastily re-tuck his shirt, and a minute later he was out the door.

 

* * *

 

Merlin hurried into the office as quietly as he could and sat down at his desk opposite Freya.

“Morning, Merlin.”

“Morning.”

“You look awful, want some tea?”

“Thanks.” Merlin took the cup she offered and sipped it gratefully.

“Gaius had been looking for you.”

“Uh oh.”

“Quite.” Freya too the cup back from him stood up. “You might want to fix your hair before you go in.”

Swallowing nervously, Merlin rans a hand through his hair and knocked on Gaius’s door before entering.

“Oh, Merlin, there you are.” Gains glanced up at him over his half-moon glasses. “Nice of you to finally join us.”

“Yeah, well, I woke up a bit late this morning, so I had to head straight to the interview with Prince Arthur.”

“Oh, I see. So you’re just getting back from it now, are you?”

“Er, yeah, I am. Ran a bit longer than expected, then I got a bit caught up with Gwaine, but I’m here now.” Merlin gave Gaius what he hoped was a convincingly relaxed smiled.

“That’s odd, I understand the Prince is normally kept to quite a tight schedule.”

“Well, I suppose there was a bit extra time in it today?” Merlin winced.

“I see.” Gaius gave Merlin a long look. “I take it the interview went well then? He answered all the questions?”

“Yeah, of course, just give me a minute.” Merlin patted his pockets, at the same time remembering he’d left the list on his desk at home.

Gaius saved him the trouble of lying about it be picking up a piece of paper next to him. “Don’t worry yourself Merlin, I have a copy here. What did his highness think of a European Federation?”

“Uh, he thought it was fine, just fine. Said there’d be two effects, er, direct and in…direct?”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, of course the indirect wouldn’t be as… direct. As the direct effects.”

“Naturally.” Gains said dryly. “Tell me Merlin, do you ever _read_ the papers we produce?”

“What?”

“Read, Merlin, given your profession you should know what I mean, shouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, of course, I mean, not all of them, but the er, important bits at least. Why?”

“Because, Merlin. If you bothered to ever pick up the papers which you help produce rather than lying in bed all morning, you would know that his royal highness Prince Arthur was put to bed with a high fever last night and cancelled all of his appointments.”

The blood rushed from Merlin’s face and his mouth fell open. After a long moment he breathed out, “Oh.”

“Indeed.” Gaius gave him a piercing look. “I am sure it must be quite shocking, given that you just left him. But there it is,” he threw down a paper on the desk between them, “on the front page of every paper in Rome.”

Merlin picked it up and was shocked to see a familiar face on the front page. “Wait, is the is the prince?” he asked with sudden urgency.

Gaius let out a long weary sigh, “Of course it is Merlin, who do you think we’ve been—”

“I have to go.” Merlin hurried out of the room, taking the paper with him. Gains rose from his chair, shocked.

“Merlin! Merlin, where do you think you’re going?”

“Sorry Gaius,” Merlin called over his shoulder, “I’ll be on time tomorrow. I promise!”

Merlin ran across the street to where his car was parked and sped through the streets back to his apartment, dashing up the stairs and praying that the man hadn’t left his room. Holding his breath Merlin opened the door as quietly as possible and slipped inside, letting out a sigh of relief when he saw the man— the _prince_ was still there. Carefully, he walked over to the bed and prodded the man’s shoulder.

When he didn’t move, Merlin tried again, harder. “Psst. Hey, your highness.”

“Mmmph, go away Leon, I don’t want to get up yet.”

“Prince Arthur?”

“Yes, what is it?”

 Merlin’s eyes widened. It was really him. There was a missing prince in his apartment. He spun around and went to his phone, dialling Gwaine’s number as quickly as he could and glancing over his shoulder as he listened to the rings.

"Come on, Gawine, I know you’re there… Pick up…”

Finally, he heard the sound of Gwaine’s voice on the other end, “Hello, ciao, Gwaine Orkney’s photography.”

“Gwaine!” Merlin hissed, doing his best to keep his voice down. “There’s a prince in my bed!”

“Who is this? Merlin?”

“Yes, of course it’s me! Did you hear what I said? The _prince_ is in my _bed_.”

Gwaine let out a long sigh, “Look, mate, I’m very proud of you for putting yourself out there, but you really don’t have to call me and brag every time you—”

“What? No, we didn’t— He was— It’s Prince Arthur.”

“That’s impossible, the prince is sick, that’s why the press conference was cancelled.”

“I think it must be a cover story, he must’ve ran away or something, look, I don’t know what to _do_. Should I call the embassy? Will they think I’ve kidnapped him?”

“What! No, Merlin, don’t call them!”

“Why not?”

“Don’t you see what an opportunity this is, you can get his opinion on _anything._ Exclusive interview!”

Merlin frowned and looked back at he bed, “I really don’t think…”

“No, it’s perfect. He ran away, right? So you just don’t let on that you recognize him. I’ll meet you at Rocca’s in an hour and bring that covert camera I’ve got, it’ll be great.”

“Gwaine, are you sure?”

“Merlin. How many times have you told me you need to get back on Gaius’s good side? Show him this and I guarantee—”

“Morgana, is that you?”

Merlin twisted around to see Arthur shifting groggily. “Damn! Gwaine, I have to go, I think he’s waking up. I’ll see you later.”

“Rocca’s! Don’t get rid of Arthur!”

Merlin hung up without answering and hurried to the side of the bed. “Arthur?”

“Morgana?”

“Er, yes, it’s me… Morgana.”

“I had the strangest dream…”

“Oh? Did you?”

Arthur rolled over, away from the window, “Mmmm… I was asleep in the street and a young man came. He was tall… and nice-looking. But he was very mean. And he kept waking me up.”

“Er, he was?” Merlin swallowed, “Uh, I mean, he did?”

Arthur’s brow furrowed and he turned his head into the pillow. “I don’t think I liked him.”

Slowly, Arthur rolled onto his back and blinked awake, taking in his surroundings with a groggy look on his face. Suddenly, he seemed to realize where he was and sat bolt upright, glaring in alarm at Merlin.

“You’re not Morgana.”

“How observant of you.”

“Where is she?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“Hm.” Arthur looked at Merlin appraisingly, then slowly around at the rest of the room. “How did I… get here?”

“Don’t you remember? I found you last night, and you wouldn’t tell me where you live, so I had to take you here.”

Arthur’s eyes widened, “Did you—"

Merlin grinned and jerked his head toward the sofa, “I slept over there, don’t worry.”

Arthur nodded slowly and eyed him warily. “And I came here willingly.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that. You seemed quite happy to stay where I found you, but I thought this was better than leaving you for the police to find. you an leave whenever you want.”

“So you _haven’t_ kidnapped me?” Arthur’s eyes narrowed.

Merlin did is best to look innocent, “Why would I want to do that? I’m Merlin.” He leaned forward and held out his hand to shake.

Arthur took it. “Ar—” he coughed and covered his tracks. “Artem.”

Merlin bit back a grin. “Artem. Nice to meet you. Would you like some tea?”

“What time is it?”

“Er, one thirty.”

“One thirty!” Arthur jumped out of bed and began looking for his clothes. “I have to get going.”

“What, no, it’s no trouble! Look, why don’t you have some breakfast here, or at least tea, then I can give you a lift where ever you need to go, alright?”

“No, no, I’ve really got to go. Thank you very much, you’ve been… Well, thank you.”

“No trouble. Are you sure I can’t do anything for you?”

“Uh, actually. I don’t suppose you could lend me some money? I swear I’ll have it sent back to you.”

“Oh, of course. Just a minute.” Merlin fished around in his pockets and pulled out a few notes. “Is a thousand lira alright?”

“Uh… yes. Yes, that should be fine, thank you again.”

Merlin watched Arthur go and waited two minutes before he opened the door and hurried after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem Arthur quotes is "Merlin and the Gleam" by Tennyson. http://d.lib.rochester.edu/camelot/text/tennyson-merlin-and-the-gleam


	2. Chapter two

Merlin couldn’t believe what he was doing. Sure, he was a journalist, but he liked to think that he wasn’t the sort of reporter— the sort of _person_ — to jump at any opportunity for money. Especially this sort of opportunity, Arthur was a  _prince_ after all, there would be people looking for him, and Merlin really shouldn't get caught up in it. He should just go back to work, make peace with Gaius, and stop following Arthur. But still, he was following Arthur.

Because maybe he did see what Gwaine meant about the possibility of an interview, and maybe he actually _did_ care about the state of his job, whatever Gaius might think. And maybe, just maybe he actually wanted to write about Arthur. Not that was letting himself consider that line of thinking at the moment, he was too busy trying to keep Arthur in his line of sight without letting himself be seen. It was easier than it might have been too, given Arthur’s clothes. Honestly, how Arthur expected to blend in while wearing what looked like a smoking jacket, Merlin couldn’t guess.

He followed at a distance as Arthur wandered through the maze of streets, giving polite smiles to the various vendors who vied for his attention, but somehow managing to slip through unencumbered while Merlin kept getting tangled in their insistent efforts. Turning away for a moment to try and talk down a particularly insistent melon vendor, Merlin lost track of Arthur in the crowd. Panicking, and trying to balance the melon he’d been forced to buy, he scanned the mass of people, finally picking out Arthur’s distinctive jacket as he entered a small shop across the street.

* * *

 

“Buongiorno! Come posso aiutarla?” Arthur was greeted by a smiling woman with dark, curly hair pulled back at her temples.

“Er, sorry, do you…”

“Ah, English. Don’t worry.” The woman smiled again, “I can’t say we get many tourists in here, but it’s lovely to have you. Oh, sorry, I probably shouldn’t have called you a tourist, should I? Not to say that there’s something wrong with being a tourist, but it’s not the sort of thing you should call people is it?”

Arthur smiled despite himself, “Well, considering that I am a tourist today, I wouldn't worry about it.”

“Thanks, that's a relief. I’m Gwen, is there anything I can help you with?”

“Artem.” Arthur said, the fake name coming a bit easier this time. “I was hoping you could help me with find some new clothes.”

Gwen was more than happy to help, and few minutes later she’d helped him select a simple button-down shirt and some sturdier shoes than the ones he’d left the embassy in. As she found a bag for what he’d come in with and rang up his purchases, Arthur looked himself over in the shop’s full length mirror.

“Don’t worry you look lovely— handsome, I mean. That is… Well, you look very nice.”

“Thank you.” Arthur told her, smiling. “And thank you very much for your help with this, it’s just what I wanted.”

Gwen smiled. “It suits you.” She held out the bag and set about getting his change. “So what brings you to Rome?”

“Uh, business. To be honest, I’ve slipped away for the day, and I’m not sure I know what I’m doing.”

“Well, if you’d like something to do tonight, there’s a nice spot on the Tiber, by Sant’Angelo, that has lovely dancing.”

“Really?”

Gwen’s eyes widened and she stammered, “Oh, I didn’t mean— Not— _Dio mio._ I’m sorry, you’re very nice but I wasn’t intending… I just meant, as a friend, I thought I’d tell you about it. If you’re interested.”

Arthur let out a soft chuckle, “Thank you very much, but I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

“Well… I’ll be there at nine. If you manage to get away from your business for long enough.”

“I’ll try.” Arthur nodded and turned to leave. "Thank you again.”

“No trouble, have a nice day!”

* * *

Merlin had to scramble off his seat when Arthur left the shop. While he waited, Merlin had managed to give the melon to a group of children and position himself incongruently enough to watch the door, but he’d still nearly missed Arthur when he exited in a crisp linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Merlin was sure the ruckus he caused catching up would make Arthur turn around and notice him, but Arthur just continued on his way, dropping the bag he was carrying into the nearest bin. There was an air of cheerful defiance to the gesture that made Merlin grin and shake his fist good-naturedly at the bin as he past it himself.

Arthur continued on, buying a small cone of gelato, stopping to look over a stall of flowers, and peering in shop windows as he passed. Merlin watched him, still on the other side of the street. Arthur seemed utterly content, and carried himself with a lightness that Merlin doubted he was entirely used to. He was so caught up in observing this, that when he had to cross the street to follow Arthur toward the steps of the Piazza di Spanga, that he didn’t notice an oncoming scooter. He dodged to avoid it, tripping over the curb and landing splayed on his back at the foot of the steps.

“Merlin?”

“Artem!” Merlin jumped up, trying to preserve what dignity he had left. “What’re you doing here?”

Arthur frowned, “Going for a walk. Were you _following_ me?”

“What? No. You must think pretty highly of yourself if you think I’ve nothing better to do with my day than follow you.”

“Then what were you doing just now?”

“Dodging a scooter. Some drivers, eh?” Merlin grinned. “I like the shirt. Did you have an appointment with a tailor then, is that why you had to leave so quickly earlier?”

Arthur was looking at him skeptically, but gave him a reluctant smile at the question. “Uh, no, not exactly,” he glanced off to the left, “I have a bit of a confession about that actually.”

“Oh?”

“I… I may have done a bit of running away last night.”

“Really?” Merlin did his best to look surprised. “Is that why you decided to sleep on the edge of a fountain?”

“Yes, well, that part was unintentional. I wanted to get out for the evening, but I’m afraid the doctor at… at the hotel gave me something to make me sleep.”

Merlin nodded, “Well that would explain how hard it was to get you moving. And now? Why not go back?”

“Because it’s not often I get a chance to see the cities I visit. Not like this.” Arthur gestured with one arm. “But I really should be getting back soon.”

“But not just yet, right? It can probably wait until later.”

"Well, I'm not sure. I didn't leave much explanation or notice, Mor— That is, my sister could be worried."

"Oh, come on, you said you don't get a chance to sight see much." A grin tugged at the corners of Merlin’s mouth, “And if you want to see the city you’ll need a guide, won’t you?”

“I suppose…” Arthur eyed him quizzically.

Merlin beamed at him. “Excellent! Consider me your official guide to Rome-in-a-day, free of charge of course. First stop: Rocca’s!” He glanced at his watch. “We’ll be just in time to meet a friend of mine.”

* * *

 

Gwaine was sitting by himself at a small table when they got there, chatting to the waiter, but he broke off when he saw them approaching.

“Merlin! I knew you wouldn’t fail me, have a seat.” He stood up to pull out the other chairs. “And who’s this then?”

“Uh, Gwaine, Artem; Atrem, Gwaine.” Merlin sat down. “I’ve offered to show him around the city.”

“Artem,” Gwaine smirked, taking Arthur’s hand, “ _lovely_ to meet you.”

“Charmed.” Arthur nodded.

“And what will you be having sirs?” the waiter asked.

Arthur glanced up at him. “Champagne, please.”

“Just coffee for me thanks,” Merlin said.

The waiter nodded and left, Gwaine turned his attention back to Arthur. “Champagne, huh? Where d’you come from that you have champagne with lunch?”

Arthur coughed slightly, “It’s only on special occasions, really. I haven’t had any since my father’s anniversary.”

“What, wedding anniversary?” Merlin asked. As far he knew the queen was dead.

“No, the fortieth anniversary of—” Arthur stopped himself. “Of the start of his job.”

“And what job is that?” Gwaine asked him, a smile still playing on his lips.

“Well… I suppose it’s mostly public relations nowadays. He likes to talk about it as though it’s more important than that, but really most of the work is done by other people.” Their drinks arrived then and Arthur took a sip of champagne. “How do you know Merlin?”

“We met through work, originally.” Gwaine answered. “Merlin’s awful at it though, really, so I’m happy to say we don’t work too closely together.”

“Really,” Arthur gave Merlin an amused look, “somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”

“Hey! You’ve barely known me a few hours.”

“Yes, but I can just tell, Merlin, you hardly seem like the most organized person.” Arthur smiled at him. “What is it you do, anyway, I’m not sure you mentioned it.”

“Oh, Gwaine and I both work in jou— Ah!” Merlin broke off as Gwaine kicked him.

“Merlin sells fertilizer.” Gwaine interrupted cheerily. “I supply him with chemicals on occasion.”

Arthur nodded, looking at Merlin whose eyes were watering. “Are you alright, Merlin?”

“Fine, fine,” Merlin answered, glaring at Gwaine. “Uh, just stubbed my toe.”

“Sitting down?”

“I’m very clumsy.” Merlin took a gulp of his coffee to avoid more questions.

“Smoke?” Gwaine suddenly asked Arthur, holding out a packet of cigarettes.

Arthur considered them for a moment before taking one. “Alright. I’ve never actually had one before.”

“Strict rules back home?” Merlin asked, smiling, as Gwaine fiddled with his lighter.

“Something like that.”

Gwaine grinned. “Well this is certainly a momentous occasion. By the way Merlin, have I told you about my new lighter? It’s great at _capturing_ people’s attention.”

Merlin took a moment to understand what Gwaine was getting at. “Oh. Ohhh. Yeah, that's, er, that’s great Gwaine.” Arthur was looking at them both curiously so Merlin downed the rest of his coffee and smiled brightly. “Well, why don’t we get moving? We’ve only got so long, after all.”

“Alright,” Arthur finished his champagne, “where to next?”

Merlin grinned. “It’s a surprise. Gwaine, you ready?”

Gwaine took a few more pictures with his lighter/camera and stood up. “All set. Onwards!”

* * *

 

“Good lord, I can’t believe Uther’s sent the secret police.” Morgana paced the small room in the airport where she was waiting with Leon. “He just can’t trust that the local police know how to do their jobs, no, _everything_ has to be under his control.”

“Lady Morgana, please sit down, have some tea. You’ve barely eaten all day.”

Morgana rounded on him, “Sit down? How am I supposed to just sit down when Uther has decide to get the bloody secret police involved? He's flying them here from back home!”

On the other side of the room’s window and small plane came into view and landed on the runway. Morgana stopped moving and watched as a long column of men walked down the steps and filed toward the building. She let out a barking laugh.

“Oh God, do they even know the meaning of the word inconspicuous?”

Leon let a small smile flit across his face. “I assure you, ma’am, I did instruct them to wear plain clothes.”

“Oh, yes, I can tell. My main concern is that each of them seem to be wearing the exact same black suit and carrying the exact same briefcase. They do know they’re not infiltrating an office, don’t they?”

“I’ll see what I can do about it.”

“Thank you, Leon.”

“Of course, my lady.” Leon turned to go. “And do try to eat something.”

Morgana smiled wanly. “Thank you. I will.”

* * *

“Here, why don’t you two use this?” Gwaine led them to where a scooter was parked in a small alley. “It’ll carry both of you if you hold on tight.” He winked at Merlin.

“Hold on to what?” Arthur asked, frowning at the scooter.

“To me.” Merlin grinned, trying to avoid the fluttering in his stomach. “Unless you want to drive?”

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” Arthur reminded him. “Besides, I don’t know how.” He looked from Merlin to the scooter and back again, his eyes lingering. “No,” he added, smiling slightly, “riding on the back will be fine.”

“Excellent!” Gwaine clapped Merlin on the back. “Give me a moment to hail a cab and lead away my friend.

Merlin got onto the scooter, swallowing nervously as he felt Arthur sit dow behind him and wrap his arms lightly around Merlin’s waist. He heard Arthur let out a nervous laugh as they pushed off, and his arms squeezed a bit tighter as they glided through the city streets.

Merlin chose the most scenic route he could, telling himself it was because he knew Gwine would be taking pictures, not because of Arthur’s awed and delighted laughter that he could feel more than hear every time they drove by some especially lovely piece of architecture. The fact that Gwaine didn’t have a very good line of sight from behind them in the cab was something Merlin chose to conveniently ignore for the sake of this reasoning. As the scooters whirred around the final bend, the Colosseum came into view, its crumbled edifice suddenly dominating the path ahead. Merlin glanced back to catch a glimpse of Arthur’s reaction when he saw it, and Arthur gave him an exasperated smile, rolling his eyes but letting out a small laugh.

“I suppose you think this is funny, Merlin.”

“What? It’s one of the most iconic sights in Rome.”

“Ha ha. I do remember _some_ of what I said last night. Albeit vaguely.”

Merlin laughed and turned his eyes back ahead to steep his scooter into a stop. “I’m afraid I can’t deliver on the gladiators, but somehow I think you’ll still like it.”

They dismounted and the three of them entered the Colosseum. Gwaine took pictures of Arthur whenever he could manage to, and Merlin did his best to stay out of the shots, and to focus on collecting mental notes for later, but both tasks were easier said than done as he found himself frequently distracted answering Arthur’s questions

“Do you do this often?” Arthur was leaning over a railing, looking at the exposed passages that would have once been under the arena floor. “Take strangers for tours of the city, I mean.”

“Hm?” Merlin snapped his eyes up to Arthur’s face at the question. “Uh, no, not often. That would require me to meet a lot of strangers. And have more days off than I do.”

“A lot of people want fertilizer do they?”

Merlin looked down sheepishly. “I suppose. It's mostly that my boss isn’t very lenient in that regard.”

“I see.”

“And what about you? I mean, you must be pretty busy to want to run away.”

“Hmmm.” Arthur looked at his hands on the railing for a long time before answering. “There are a lot of expectations placed on me, and even if I understand them they can get… Well, it would be nice to have more days like this.”

“What— sight seeing?”

“No, not necessarily.” Arthur looked out over the Colosseum for a moment and smiled. “You know, sometimes I wish I could just let my sister do my job. She'd be good at it, probably better than I am. Then I could just run off into the country. Have a farm maybe. I mean, I’d be absolute rubbish at living on my own, and I have no clue how to farm... But it’s nice to have the thought, you know?”

He looked at Merlin, still smiling. Merlin’s mouth had spread into a soft smile listening to Arthur, and his flickered his gaze downward for a second before answering, “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Arthur looked like he was about to say something else when the moment was interrupted by a long whistle from Gwaine. Merlin turned his head sharply to see him grinning at them, lighter posed in front of him. He raised it slightly and gave Merlin knowing look. Merlin scowled at him and turned back to Arthur.

“What was that about?” Arthur frowned.

“Nothing, Gwaine’s a prick." He cleared his throat. "Er, d’you wanna move on? Look at the lower levels?”

* * *

After the Colosseum, they got back on the scooter and Followed Gwaine’s taxi to the Santa Maria basilica. When Merlin saw where they were he groaned.

“What’s wrong?” Arthur asked.

“Nothing,” Merlin sighed, “Gwaine dragged a bunch of us here a few years ago that’s all.”

“Awww, Merlin, don’t tell me you’re scared of the Mouth of Truth?” Gwaine slung an arm around Merlin's shoulder as he led the way. “I though you said you didn’t believe in it.”

“I don’t! I’m allowed to dislike the thought of putting my hand in some filthy stone without being afraid of it.”

“Right, which I let pass as a reason _last_ time. This time, you’re not going to weasel out of it.”

“Sorry,” Arthur said, “but what’s the Mouth of Truth?”

Gwaine gave him a sly smile, “You’ll see.” he led the way around the corned into a small alcove with a large, weathered carving of a bearded face on one wall. “Here we are. Legend says if you’re prone to lying and you put your hand in the mouth there, then it’ll get bitten off.”

“God, that’s awful. Why would anyone spread a story like that?” Arthur grimaced.

Gwaine tutted. “So you’re on Merlin’s side that it’s all made up are you? Well, we’ll see. Why don’t you put your hand in?”

Arthur hesitated, “You’re not going to? This was your idea.”

“Oh, I know I’m a liar, and I’m rather fond of my hands. Besides, you don’t seem like the type to lie, what have you got to lose.”

Arthur opened his mouth, searching for words and Merlin rolled his eyes. “Oh for God’s sake Gwaine,” he muttered and grabbed Arthur’s hand. “Here, we’ll do it at the same time.” And he thrust their hands into the hole.

Merlin froze as soon as he’d done it, realizing how close he was standing to Arthur and how warm his hand felt in the cold recess in stone. Slowly, he brought his eyes up to look at Arthur’s face. He was already staring at Merlin, and Merlin dropped his gaze. He gulped and pulled his hand away, wiping it quickly on his jacket.

Arthur cleared his throat. “Well, it looks like we’re both fairly honest then.”

“Yeah, well” Merlin muttered. “I wouldn’t count on all that.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to any Italian speakers if I messed something up, I tried my best to find reliable translations


	3. Chapter Three

The ride on their way to the next stop was quiet. They’d elected to leave the scooter at the basilica and all pile into the backseat of a cab so that Merlin was sandwiched between Arthur and Gwaine. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, just a bit subdued as the energy of earlier in the day waned and light hitting the windows fell in long, brilliant stripes from between the buildings.

Finally, they arrived at a long wall covered in small tablets, each with a different inscription. Arthur and Merlin got out of the cab, Gwaine lagging behind as he paid the driver. Merlin watched as Arthur slowly surveyed the wall, taking in the different notes covering it, some obscured by ivy.

After a long moment he asked Merlin, “What do they mean? The inscriptions.”

“They’re wishes, ones that have come true.” Merlin stepped forward and the two of them slowly moved along the wall. “There was an air raid nearby, during the war, and a man who survived near the wall here it put up the first one. It just sort of… kept going from there.”

Arthur nodded slowly, still looking at the wall. “That’s wonderful. That people can come here and see how much good that’s happened to others.” He ran his hand over a few of the plaques, each being names or initials.

“Yeah,” Merlin agreed. “It’s one of my favourite places.”

“Really? Have you ever put one up?”

“Not yet.” Merlin smiled. “But you never know, I could have a wish come true one of these days. Hey, why don’t you make one.”

Arthur laughed, “I won’t have a chance to get back here and put up a plaque, even if it does come true.”

“Well then write to me and I’ll do it for you, come on.” Merlin glanced at Gwaine who was already getting out his lighter again.

“Really Merlin," Arthur said, "you believe in a magic wall but not a lie detecting statue? I'd question where you choose to place your faith.”

“It’s not that the wall grants the wish, clotpole, it’s promising to come back and acknowledge how far you’ve come.”

Arthur blinked at him, taken aback, “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I heard anything you said after you called me a clotpole. What exactly does that mean?”

“It’s a… term in the fertilizer business,” Merlin blustered, “just… Will you make a wish? Please?” Merlin flashed him a grin.

“Alright, fine,” Arthur sighed, an amused expression on his face. He closed his eyes and looked very solemn for a moment then opened them, giving Merlin an expectant look. “Happy?”

“I’m sure he’s ecstatic,” Gwaine said, pocketing his lighter and clapping Arthur on the back. “Now, where do you want to go next?”

“Well,” Arthur answered, “I heard about a place by the river with dancing, though it might be a bit early for that, I'm not sure.”

“The barges, you mean?” Gwaine asked. “No, not early at all. It's a lovely place, by the way, very romantic. Merlin knows the way, don’t you Merlin?”

“Er, yeah, I suppose, but you’ve actually been there. Aren’t you coming?”

“Nah, I’ve got to see to that business development, remember mate?”

“Business development?”

“Yes, you know, I’ve got to make sure I prepare the _solutions_ I’ll need so that the _development_ turns out alright. Can’t be left with just negatives now, can I?”

“Ohhh, right, of course.” Merlin nodded, taking his meaning. “But that can wait until later, can’t it?”

“Not if I want them by tomorrow morning. Look,” Gwaine gave a sideways glance at Arthur and grinned, “why don’t you take the lad dancing and have a lovely time. I’ll catch up with you if I finish up early, alright.”

“Alright.” Merlin nodded. See you tomorrow, then.”

“Of course.” Gwaine turned to Arthur, “Lovely to meet you, Artem, have a nice evening.”

“Thanks, you too. Good luck with your… business development.”

“Right, arrivederci mates, have fun dancing.” He turned to leave, calling over his shoulder as he did, “Don’t keep him out too late, Merls, we wouldn’t want him to turn into a pumpkin.”

“I think he may have misremembered that fairytale.” Arthur frowned.

Merlin rolled his eyes, “Yes, well, that’s Gwaine for you. But anyway, dancing on the barges, yeah? How’d you hear about that?”

“Someone I met earlier today, actually. You don’t mind?”

“No, of course not, it should be fun.” Merlin caught sight of something over Arthur’s shoulder and grinned, “And if we’re going to go, we should at least go in style,” he said, holding out his arm to hail the horse drawn carriage that had just come around the corner.

* * *

 

The barge was at the bottom of a flight of stone steps, right next to a bridge and across from Castel Sant’Angelo. While Merlin bought them tickets, Arthur surveyed the scene. There were stings of lights running between thin poles, lighting a band as it played an upbeat tune next to the bar, and flickering on the faces of the already bustling crowd. The two of them walked down the gangplank together, and when they were amongst the couples dancing, Merlin tentatively held out his arm.

“I take it you know how dance.” Merlin smiled when Arthur took up the leading position.

“Of course,” Arthur scoffed. “Do you?”

“It’s been awhile,” Merlin admitted, “but I think I remember well enough. I can’t say I’ve much practice in public except when Will’s dared me.”

“Will?”

“Childhood friend.” Merlin laughed. “And a bit of a card. He moved to Italy about a month after I did, ostensibly as part of a longer trip, but seeing as he hasn’t left in two years I don’t think that’s happening. I don’t think he knew what to do with himself without me and Gwaine around.”

“You grew up with Gwaine too? I thought he said you met through work.” Arthur moved them into a thicker pat of the crowd, his attention on something over Merlin’s shoulder.

Merlin glanced around but he couldn’t see anything odd. “We did, but he ended up friends with me and Will. He’s part of the reason I got a job here.”

“What? Not much call for fertilizer back in England?”

“Er, I guess not.” Merlin glanced down, feeling guilty about the lie. “Actually—”

They were interrupted then by a young women who approached them and tapped on Arthur’s shoulder, smiling. “Artem! I’ve been keeping an eye out for you, I’m glad you were able to come.”

Merlin stepped back self-consciously as they stopped dancing and Arthur turned to smile at the woman. “Gwen. Lovely to see you. Thank you for recommending this place.”

“Oh, it was no trouble.” Gwen smiled at Merlin then. “Who’s this?”

Arthur glanced back at Merlin. “Oh, uh, Gwen, this is Merlin, he’s been showing me around the city today. Merlin, Gwen. I bought some clothes from her this afternoon.”

Merlin held out a hand. “Nice to meet you Gwen, I was wondering what became of that jacket.”

“Yes, it did seem a bit warm for it.” Gwen glanced behind her. “I’m here with some friends but I just thought I’d stop by to say hello.”

“Would you like to dance?” Arthur asked. “Just once, I’m sure you’ll want to get back to your friends.”

Gwen glanced at Merlin. “You don’t mind?”

“No, of course not, I’ll wait by the bar.”

Merlin ducked through the crowd to find a seat, and watched Arthur dancing with Gwen. After a few minutes, he felt a tap on his shoulder and swivelled around to see Gwaine.

“I thought you weren’t coming?”

“Oh, the pictures were easy, I just wanted to give you some alone time with his royal highness. Speaking of, where is our dashing prince?”

“Over there,” Merlin said, gesturing.

“Who’s that he’s dancing with?”

“Her name’s Gwen. She sold him that shirt earlier and told him about this place.”

“Hm.” Gwaine raised the camera he’d brought and snapped a quick picture, then gave Merlin a critical look, “Are you alright?”

“Of course.” Merlin frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Gwaine smirked. “Maybe because you and the prince have been making eyes at each other all afternoon?”

Merlin was spared from answering by the end of the song, as Arthur said goodbye to Gwen and came through the crowd to where they were sitting.

“Gwaine." Arthur nodded. "Your business development didn’t keep you long I see.”

Gwaine shrugged it off, “Just a few things to get ready for the morning, that’s all. You’re enjoying yourself?”

“Absolutely. Now Merlin,” Arthur smiled, “I was hoping you’d favour me with another dance.”

Merlin grinned and took the hand Arthur offered. “I told you I wasn’t worried,” he whispered to Gwaine, before letting Arthur sweep him off onto the dance floor.

* * *

 

“Merlin,” Arthur said after one song ended and the band struck up another, slower tune. “I wanted to thank you for today.”

Merlin’s mouth spread into a smile and he pulled back slightly to look at Arthur. “Oh?”

“You spent all afternoon showing me the city and doing the sorts of things I’ve wanted to for ages, and I just… Well I appreciate it.”

“Don’t be too grateful, it’s not every day I get to gallivant around Rome with a mysterious stranger.”

Arthur let out a small laugh and looked down, smiling. “Yes, well…” He looked back at Merlin’s face. “It was still very selfless of you to take the time.”

Merlin looked away, swallowing. “Arthur… there’s something I should tell you.”

“What?”

Just then there was a scuffle behind them and Gwaine came running up, camera in hand and out of breath. “Merlin,” he hissed, “a bunch of blokes in suits just showed up and started asking questions, it looks like things might turn ugly. I think we ought to get out of here.”

Arthur was staring over Merlin’s shoulder now, face white. “Oh no. He _wouldn’t_ ,” he breathed.

Merlin spun around and saw a group of identically dressed men trying to push their way through the crowd, disrupting the dancers and causing a stir. He turned back to Arthur, but he’d disappeared. Looking around frantically, Merlin finally caught sight of him struggling as he was lead away by two of the men.

“Merlin!” Arthur shouted and he wrenched his arm away from one of them. “Merlin!”

Merlin raced forward, threading his way though the crowd as quickly as he could and grabbed one of the men, pulling him off Arthur as Gwaine struggled with the other.

Once they’d gotten free, Gwaine pressed a set of keys into Merlin’s hand. “I’ll distract them, you get Arthur out of here. We'll meet back at yours later.”

Merlin nodded and grabbed Arthur’s hand as Gwaine started shouting in Italian to the other partygoers. Merlin and Arthur kept going until the reached the other side of the barge, only to be stopped by the railing and beyond it, the river.

He turned to Arthur. “You don’t want to get caught by them, right?”

Arthur glanced over his shoulder to where the men were fighting their way through the crowd, many of whom were barring their way. “No.”

“Then we’re going to have to jump.”

As one, they climbed over the railing and plunged into the icy water, swimming frantically for the other side of the river. As soon as they got to shore, Arthur pulled Merlin to him, shivering from the cold and laughing shakily.

After a minute Merlin pulled back. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine. How about you?”

Merlin stared at Arthur, dripping wet from the river and his teeth chattering in the night air. "I'm brilliant." Merlin brought his hand to Arthur's cheek and moved toward him. "Can I..."

Arthur nodded, almost imperceptibly, and Merlin leaned forward, kissing him softly. Arthur pulled back after a second, his eyes searching Merlin’s face in the half darkness.

 

Merlin looked at him, concerned, "Alright?"

"Absolutely." Arthur pulled him forward and they were kissing again, long and deep. Arthur’s hands moved to Merlin’s hips and Merlin brought his around the back of Arthur’s neck, pulling them closer together.

After several minutes, they broke apart, both grinning. The air felt colder without Arthur pressed against him and Merlin’s teeth chattered, he reached for Arthur's hand and squeezed before pulling him to his feet. “I don't know about you but I'm freezing. We should probably get to Gwaine’s car.”

* * *

 

After they’d both had a chance to dry their clothes and get warm, they sat down across from each other at Merlin’s small kitchen table and Merlin poured them both some tea. Arthur accepted his cup without saying much, and Merlin watched him as he sipped it.

“Gwaine should be here soon, assuming he hasn’t been dragged away by the police.”

Arthur looked up sharply. “He wouldn’t be, would he?”

“Oh, no. Sorry, that was meant to be a joke.” Merlin looked down at the table and took a sip of his tea.

Arthur nodded and turned his own cup slowly in his hands, watching it pensively.

“Sorry I can’t offer you anything more substantial. I’m a rubbish cook, so I eat out mostly.”

Arthur finally smiled at that, “If you had anything worth cooking, I’d offer to make you something, but as far as I could tell you just had some mouldy bread and a tin of capers.”

“You cook?”

“Well, theoretically. I learned ages ago but I never have any opportunity.”

“I thought you said you were rubbish at taking care of yourself?”

Arthur laughed and sipped his tea. “There’s more to that just cooking Merlin, surely you know that.”

"Maybe, but it's convenient you'd make this claim of great culinary skill when there's nothing for you to follow through with."

“Well if you bought something more substantial than capers I could prove myself.”

Merlin grinned "I'll just have to do that then so I can prove that you're lying."

"Prove I'm lying Merlin?" Arthur tutted in mock offence. "Do you really think that low of me?"

"Absolutely, you have a shifty look and none of your story matches up at all."

Merlin regretted his words as soon as he'd said them, as the smile faded from Arthur’s face and he looked down at his cup, his eyes dark. After a moment he downed the rest of his tea and stood up. “I think I have to go now.”

Merlin nodded and stood up himself. “I don’t suppose I can convince you to wait until the morning?”

Arthur gave him a long look, “I— I’d like to, Merlin, I really would, but…” His jaw tightened, “I’ve stayed away long enough. I should get back before this gets any harder.”

Merlin nodded and followed Arthur back into the main room of his small flat. Arthur took a few steps toward the door then turned around, seizing Merlin in a tight hug. Merlin felt his throat tighten as he pressed his face into Arthur’s neck. He waited a long moment before he was able to speak.

“I… There’s something I want to tell you.”

Arthur pulled Merlin closer and turned his face toward Merlin’s ear. “Please don’t,” he whispered, “let’s not say anything. Please.”

Merlin nodded silently, tears blurring his vision. He blinked them away and felt Arthur pulling back, ever so slightly, to press his lips to Merlin’s forehead. Merlin tilted his head up and gave him a long hard kiss, trying to memorize how it felt. When they broke apart, Merlin buried his face in Arthur’s shoulder and they stood that way for a long time.


	4. Chapter Four

“Lady Morgana?”

Morgana spun around as soon as Leon entered her room. “Yes.”

“He’s back.”

* * *

 

“Arthur!” Morgana raced into his room and hugged him fiercely before pulling away with a burning look in her eyes. “What in God’s name were you _doing_! You were gone for twenty four bloody hours! The secret police said you _ran away_ from them when they found you with some… some... man, on a  _barge_ of all places. What the bloody hell were you doing?”

Arthur stood rigidly, not meeting his sister’s eyes. “I’m sorry I worried you, but I assure you, I was quite safe.”

“It doesn’t matter if you were safe, Arthur, we had no idea what had happened to you!You could have been—” Morgana turned away, rubbing her forehead with one hand, the other on her hip. “Will you at least tell me what you were doing so I have something to say to Uther?”

“I was indisposed. I’m back now.”

Morgana looked at the ceiling and took a deep breath. “Arthur. I know this trip hasn’t been… easy for you, but I have a duty to perform, just as much as you do, and part of that is being able to explain—”

“I know my duty!” Arthur snapped. “Do you think I don’t spend every minute painfully aware of what my _duty_ is? Of what it prevents me from doing? I’m sorry that Uther won’t acknowledge you publicly, but it is not my _fault_ —”

Morgana silenced him with an icy glare. “That isn’t what this is about and you know it. Now either you tell me where you were or we’re done talking.”

Arthur stared at her for a long moment, meeting her gaze. Eventually he exhaled slowly and said with finality, “We’re done.”

“Fine. We managed to rescheduled some of your appointments for before the flight tomorrow. Make sure you’re ready.”

And with that she swept from the room, locking the door with a final-sounding snap.

* * *

 

When Gwaine finally burst through the door, Merlin was sitting alone by the window feeling numb.

“Well they arrested eight of those secret service creeps, so no worries there. I got away pretty clean, too, nothing but a couple bruises, so on the whole a pretty successful day, I’d say, wouldn’t you?” Gwaine looked around the flat as he collapsed onto the sofa, his face falling. “Where’s Arthur?”

“Gone.” Merlin slowly turned his gaze from the window. “I gave him a lift back to the embassy. Or, you know, a nearby alley.”

Gwaine looked at him and sighed. “Lord… Just how in love with him are you?”

“I…” Merlin tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I only knew him a few hours.”

Gwaine rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I asked, mate.”

Merlin let his head collapse on his desk and moaned. “I lied to him Gwaine. I spent the whole day lying to him and he’ll find out if I write that article and he’ll be hurt and betrayed and I can’t!” He looked up at Gwaine. “I know it’s a great career move, but I _can’t_ do that to him.”

“Merlin… I know you’re not going to write that story.”

“What?”

“Honestly, I think I’ve known for most of the day. It’s fine, it’s not like Gaius was expecting it, was he?”

Merlin shook his head dolefully. “I suppose not. If you knew... Why’d you keep taking pictures then?”

Gwaine winked at him, “Some days you want to remember.” He pushed himself up off the couch, grabbing his keys from where Merlin left them he headed for the door. “Anyway, don’t get so glum about not telling Arthur, there’s always tomorrow, eh?”

Merlin was looking out the window again. “He flies to Athens tomorrow.”

“In the evening, yeah, but at eleven forty five they’ve got that press conference, rescheduled.”

Merlin looked up at him startled. “They what?”

“Try to get some sleep, mate, you don’t want to be late again.”

* * *

 

When Arthur entered the grand hall for the press conference, he was faced with a large crowd of reporters and photographers, all cordoned behind a velvet rope. Scanning the crowd, Arthur froze as his gaze fell upon two familiar faces in the front row. Merlin, hands nervously twisting in front of him, eyes searching Arthur’s face with well-concealed anxiety. Next to him, Gwaine was holding a camera, and giving Arthur a wry smile.

It wasn’t until the ambassador announced him that he teared his gaze away from them to give the entire press pool a slight nod. As he sat down, his eyes found Merlin’s again and he swallowed before nodding to Leon to begin.

An American man holding a small notepad spoke first, “I believe at the outset, your highness, that I should express the pleasure of all of us at your recovery from the recent illness.”

Arthur smiled politely. “Thank you.”

“Does your highness believe that federation would be a possible solution to Europe’s economic problems?” A reported further back in the crowd asked.

“I am in favour of any measure which would lead to closer co-operation in Europe.” It was one of a hundred answers that he’d recited constantly over the course of the tour, and it came without thinking.

“And what, in the opinion of your highness, is the outlook for friendship among nations?”

“I have every faith in it.” He let his eyes slip back to Merlin and added, “As I have every faith in relations between people.” Morgana would scold him for going off script, but it was worth it to see Merlin relax.

Merlin let the smallest smile creep onto his face and cleared his throat. “If I can, I’d like to say that— just speaking for my own press service— we believe that your highness’s faith won’t be unjustified.”

Arthur fought to keep his grin under control as he answered, “I am so glad to hear you say it.”

Arthur was still looking at Merlin when a man behind him spoke up. “Which of the cities visited did your highness enjoy the most?”

Arthur didn’t answer right away, watching Merlin’s face and trying to come up with the right thing words to express what he needed to. From behind him Morgana prompted him, “Each in its own way.”

Arthur brought his attention to the room at large, “Each in its own way was… unforgettable it would be difficult to—” he broke off with a small exhale and glanced at Merlin. “Rome,” he said clearly, hearing his voice echo. “By all means, Rome.”

The press broke into murmurings at that, and Arthur could practically hear Morgana’s frustration. Merlin’s face split open into a broad, brilliant grin and Arthur returned it as discretely as he could manage.

The press finally quieted and someone asked. “Despite your indisposition.”

“Despite that.”

Arthur head Morgana murmur something, and Leon stepped forward again, announcing, “Photographs may now be taken.”

The handful of people holding cameras stepped out from under the ropes and surrounded Arthur, including Gwaine, who stood a little further back than the others, hunched over. When he straightened up, Arthur saw he was holding the cigarette lighter he’d had with him yesterday. Gwaine gave him a subtle wink and Arthur’s smile faltered as he understood.

“Thank you, everyone, thank you,” The ambassador started, but Arthur held up a hand, stopping him.

“I would like to meet some of the members of the press.” Morgana and the rest of the attendants behind him looked at each other in confusion, but Arthur strode purposefully down the few steps and to one side of the front row.

Slowly, he made his way across the column of reporters, shaking their hands or offering small bows as they introduced themselves. He felt a knot growing in his stomach as he got closer to where Gwaine and Merlin stood. There was only one reporter separating them now. Arthur took a deep breath and did his best to keep his face impassive as he turned to Gwaine.

“Gwaine Orkney, CR Photo Service,” he introduced himself with a grin.

“How do you do.”

Gwaine smirked, shaking Arthur’s hand lightly then reaching for one of his pockets. “May I present you with some commemorative photos of your visit?”

Arthur slowly accepted the proffered envelope and lifted the flap. It was pictures of him from the day before, occasionally alone, but more often than not with Merlin. He closed the envelope quickly and looked up at Gwaine again, trying not to let his emotion show on his face.

“Thank you. That’s very kind.”

And then Merlin. Arthur knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his face steady as he slowly stepped to his left and raised his eyes to meet Merlin’s. Clenching he jaw, he let an expectant smile cross his lips, knowing it wouldn’t hide the longing in his eyes.

Merlin’s mouth quirked and he held out his hand. “Merlin Emrys, London Exchange Telegraph.”

“So happy to… I’m glad you could be here.” He cleared his throat. “Mr. Emrys.” Arthur held on for a moment too long as he shook Merlin’s hand.

When he reached the end of the front row he slowly turned, walking back to the platform and giving a brief, warm smile to the press before turning to leave.

Merlin stood still for a long time after Arthur had gone, waiting for the room to empty completely. When everyone else had left, he reluctantly started to go, walking the length of the room with slow, purposeful steps. When he reached the doorway he turned for one last glance at where Arthur had sat before facing forward and leaving.


	5. Epilogue

It wasn’t until he was on the plane to Athens that Arthur had a chance to properly look over the photos. He’d managed to do his best to keep them away from Morgana’s prying eyes, which was a feat in and of itself, but his day had been too full of appointments to have a moment to himself. Sitting in the darkened cabin Arthur gingerly reached into the envelope and pull out the small stack of pictures.

He slowly flipped through them, smiling over the memories and studying the details that Gwaine had captured. Just as he’d noticed before, most of the pictures were of him and Merlin together: dancing on the barges, studying the wall of wishes, putting their hands in the Mouth of Truth, even one of them riding on the scooter. Even though he was in all of them, it felt strangely like he was intruding, each of the photos were filled with a quiet kind of closeness. A grin spread over Arthur's face even as he felt a melancholy ache growing in his chest.

Then he reached a picture that made his breath hitch. He and Merlin were standing next to each other at the Colosseum, leaning on the railing with their elbows a hair’s width apart and looking at each other as though there was nothing else there. Merlin’s face was mostly turned away from the camera, but that didn’t hide that he was grinning broadly and gazing at Arthur with a soft expression. Arthur was looking back at him in a way he wasn’t sure he could describe. He’d never seen his own face look that way, even in the unposed shots that had been taken of him in the past. Arthur looked at the photograph for a long time, setting it aside as he carefully arranged they others in a neat stack.

As he moved to put them back in the envelope, Arthur noticed a folded slip of paper he’d missed before. Frowning, he tugged it out and unfolded it. It was a note dressed to him, written in a crabbed, spiky scrawl.

_Arthur,_

_I think it must be pretty obvious what I wanted to tell you last night. I am so, so sorry for lying. Gwaine and I were going to try and publish a story about you, using those pictures and whatever I could get you to say, but don’t worry, it won’t happen now. To be honest I gave up on it pretty early in the afternoon, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad about lying to you. I really do, and I won't blame you if you don't forgive me._ _I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my job, and I’m sorry I acted like I didn’t know who you were._

_But then again, maybe if I hadn't you wouldn’t have had the sort of day you wanted._

_I know you might not want to talk to me again, or even hear from me... but just in case, you can always write to 51 via Margutta. Let me know if you ever get that wish, or at least repay me those 1000 lira._

_Merlin_

_p.s. There’s another foreign correspondent position that’s opened up and I put my name in. I don’t want to be too optimistic yet, but let’s just say you might you might not need to come back to Rome to see me in another press pool._

Arthur set the note down and settled back in his seat, smiling. A warm feeling settled into his chest as he looked out the window onto the darkened clouds, already thinking of the letter he was going to to write when they landed.


End file.
